


Liftoff

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [381]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:09:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8802055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: angrycaramel requested: John & Jeff, the first time John returned from space?





	1. Chapter 1

It was just a training flight, little more than a jaunt on the new and barely improved vomit comet.  Jeff had done it, Lee had done it, every other person on the roster had done it.  It was routine, just something slotted in after the operational safety update and before lunch.

Jeff still found himself pacing the length of the concrete platform that rimmed the tower, eyes scanning the deep blue sky for the pinprick of the returning shuttle.   When the black dot resolved into the descending craft, Jeff found himself gripping the railing, watching until, with a squeal of tyres, the delicate little craft was safely back to earth.

He didn’t mean to wait; it was bad enough that John was going through training as ‘Jeff Tracy’s kid’ as it was.  But still he found himself lounging against the wall, watching as the intake tumbled past him, full of excitement and chatter as they continued to come down from their first actual space flight.

Jeff remembered being one of them, Lee turning to him and punching him on the arm.  “We’re real astronauts, boyo,” he’d crowed, and Jeff had understood exactly what Lee had meant.

John was the last off the craft.  It worried Jeff, slightly, that he never caught sight of his son in the thick of the gossip.  By all reports, he worked well with the rest of the intake, was polite and even engaging in classes, no concerns there, as old colleagues updated without being asked. Jeff still wasn’t sure if he wanted their reports.

But whenever Jeff saw the new intake, crossing the quad or being herded from simulator to classroom, John was always slightly apart.

It made it harder to hide, to pretend he wasn’t hovering like a hen, so Jeff smiled and wore it instead, pushing off the wall as his son slowed his steps to come to a stop before him.  “How was it?” Jeff asked, remembering his first flight.  He’d tumbled right into the ceiling, and Lee had filled three airsick bags.  The first training flight in the vomit comet knocked the shine off space flight, showed it for the messy, cramped, noisy, smelly reality it still was.

John blinked, as if he still wasn’t fully back to earth, and then he smiled, more brightly than he ever had since Lucille had passed.  

Jeff remembered that smile too; he’d worn it for days after his first flight.  “Well,” he chuckled, reaching to pull John into a one-armed hug.  “I can see that space has got its claws in you too.”

John had laughed, actual laughter, another sound not heard in too long, and proceeded to give his father a blow by blow run down of his first time in zero gravity.  Jeff walked, and listened, and tried not to feel too stupidly _proud_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drdone jumped in and requested: To go with the John up in space for the first time one, what about the first time Alan went to space?

“There’s always Alan.”

He perked up, hearing his name.  He’d been loitering in the shadows, out of sight but in earshot of his father’s desk.  His heart plummeted as he heard his father scoff.  “He’s never been up.”

John was steadfast, unflappable.  “He’s aced every sim there is, and even some really weird ones I wrote just for him.”  Alan tried not to puff up with pride. John’s belief in him was a bedrock he relied on.  “Uncle Lee is still in the cast.  Besides, he’d just be there for support.  You and I will do the flying and heavy lifting still.”  There was a pause.  “Clock’s ticking dad.”

Another sigh.  “Alan, I know you’re there.”

Abashed, Alan stepped out of the shadows.  His father was backlit against the setting sun, his face lost in shadows.  “Yes, sir?”

The shadows glanced at John.  John nodded, serene and steadfast.   Another sigh.  “I know you heard all that.  Suit up.”

Alan gritted his teeth to keep in his yell of excitement.  “Yes, sir,” he said so fast the sibilants ran together.

His suit was still stiff and new, and Alan rolled his shoulders, trying to get it to settle.  Behind him, unsselfconsciously, John was pulling on his own suit, already well-worn and soft.  “Thanks,” Alan felt compelled to say.  “For, uh.  Just, thanks, John.”

John’s hand was steady as it rested lightly on Alan’s shoulder.  “You can do the job.  Show him that.”

The jump seat of the rocket looked over the pilots’ shoulders.  Alan found his hands sketching in the air the movements of preflight, power up, status check.

In the co-pilot’s seat, John glanced over at him and smiled, a flash of movement inside his own helmet.  “We’re loaded and good to go, sir.”

In the pilot’s seat, their father flipped the final switches.  “All right then, boys.   Thunderbirds are go.”

Alan’s heart was pounding as he felt the rockets go to full power and they surged up into the gathering night.


End file.
